


Starved (For Love)

by Marveljunkie



Series: Write Me [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bullying, Caring Dean, Fainting, Hand Jobs, Healing Sex, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sam Has an Eating Disorder, mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 16:32:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10575171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marveljunkie/pseuds/Marveljunkie
Summary: Everyone hates him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to my friend Katie for helping inspire me today! I couldn't think of anything so she threw words at me til something stuck. Thanks, babe!! <3
> 
> I've never had an eating disorder but I do know what happens when you don't eat\drink enough. Accidents happen. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

Fat. Fag. Disgusting. 

The words echo in Sam's head as he retches painfully into the toilet. He presses his forehead to the cool toilet bowl before making himself straighten up and clean up. Dean will be back soon. He can't know what Sam has to do. 

Never mind that he's only thirteen. Words hurt, especially ones with a grain of truth mixed in. See, Sam is a gay (fag, his mind supplies helpfully) and he is disgusting. What kind of sane person lives this way, jumping from state to state, killing and hunting. (Fat isn't quite true but he can't fight it. Not when everything else is true.)

Realistically, Sam knows its not his fault. But it still feels like if he tried harder, fought harder, anything, maybe he could stop his dad. 

But no, he's still here and they're still hopping around. Sam sighs and opens the bathroom door, wandering out for a clean shirt. He shoves away the dizziness and heads for his duffle. 

But he doesn't quite make it there. After starving himself for a couple weeks, his body can't cope and he passes out. 

 

He comes to feeling oddly fuzzy and light, disoriented. 

"Sam!" Oh. That must be Dean calling his name and slapping his cheek. Sam forces his eyes open and manages to meet Dean's worried gaze. 

"Sammy." Dean breathes. "Fuck, you scared me." He laughs nervously.

Sam just manages a weak hum, noticing for the first time that his head is in Dean's lap. Dean taps his cheek again. "Hey, stay with me, kiddo. Gonna put you on the bed, okay?"

Sam nods, and Dean heaves him up into his arms, gently depositing him on the bed. "Too fucking light." Dean mutters to himself. He takes a closer look at Sam and sees the outlines of his ribs and too thin waist. 

"Dammit, Sam." He mutters, tucking him in. "We're gonna talk when you feel better. But first," he raises his voice a little so Sam can hear him. "Have some water." 

Dean curls his arm under Sam's thin shoulders and helps him sit up to take a few sips. "There we go." He encourage softly. "Now sleep. You need it." On impulse, he leans down and kisses his forehead.

Sam mumbles something incomprehensible and drops off. 

He jerks awake an hour or so later, flying into sitting position. 

"Woah!" Dean's there a second later, easing Sam back to vertical position. Good thing too, because little black dots are dancing in Sam's vision as his body tries to cope with the sudden changes in position. 

"Easy, tiger." Dean murmurs, stroking Sam's forehead. "Easy. It'll pass in a second." 

Dean's right, and a moment later Sam opens his eyes again, relieved that the world is not spinning. 

"There we go." Dean praises. "That's right. You good?"

Sam nods sluggishly. He's exhausted but he'll live. 

Dean nods. "Okay, Sammy. We need to have a little talk. Because this," he pokes Sam's ribs. "Is not normal for a strapping thirteen year old like you. You shouldn't be a stick." 

Sam bites his lip and looks away. Dean can't know. But Sam's refusal to answer is enough for Dean. "Sam..." His expression softens. "You can't just eat and upchuck. Why do you need to? You're not fat. Never have been." 

That catches Sam's attention and he dares to meet Dean's gaze. "You - you think so?" He mutters shyly. 

"Yeah, Sammy." Dean smiles. "You're beautiful." He cups Sam's cheek and leans down to brush their lips together. "Gorgeous." He whispers, rubbing a thumb over Sam's cheekbone.

Sam whimpers, just a little, and drags Dean in for a proper kiss. Dean goes eagerly, kissing Sam back with just as much passion and getting his hands on Sam.

A bit later, as the pleasure overwhelms Sam and he comes with a soft cry, the harsh words disappear and are replaced.

Beautiful. Strong. Loved.


End file.
